Those who will not reason, perish in the act. Those who will not act, perish for that reason.
W. H. AudenDesire, even in its wildest tantrums, can neither persuade me it is love nor stop me from wishing it were.
W. H. AudenWarm are the still and lucky miles, White shores of longing stretch away, A light of recognition fills The whole great day, and bright The tiny world of lovers' arms. Silence invades the breathing wood Where drowsy limbs a treasure keep, Now greenly falls the learned shade Across the sleeping brows And stirs their secret to a smile. Restored! Returned! The lost are borne On seas of shipwreck home at last: See! In a fire of praising burns The dry dumb past, and we Our life-day long shall part no more.
W. H. Auden